


We All Have Our Flaws

by peachgrove



Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Crying, Epilepsy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Neurological Disorders, Past Abuse, Protectiveness, Seizures, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:48:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachgrove/pseuds/peachgrove
Summary: Armie is able to stretch Timmy out across the couch with only little argument from the boy. As he watches Timmy become more and more unaware and distressed, he can’t keep himself from asking, “Nicole, what’s wrong with him?”Nicole looks down at her boy one more time before looking up at Armie with a pained grimace. “He’s having a seizure.”orWithin the first few months of their relationship, Timmy has yet to tell Armie about his epilepsy. Armie has yet to witness anything like it.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: The Epilepsy Diaries [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1723651
Comments: 18
Kudos: 172





	We All Have Our Flaws

**Author's Note:**

> just to be clear, they've only been together for a few months in this one. this series itself isn't in any particular order, but i just wanted to clear that up!
> 
> enjoy <3

“You know what I love?” Armie asks flirtatiously.

Timmy hesitates as he leans against him, his back pressed to Armie’s chest. He watches as Armie wraps his arms around his middle snuggling him in close. A happy sigh leaves the younger as he asks, “What’s that?”

Armie smiles softly down at the boy in his arms, his entire body laying on top of his own, the two practically existing as one. He could stay like this forever, holding Timmy in his arms like it’s their last day on earth. He presses his face into Timmy’s curls, taking him in, breathing him in. He can’t remember what his life was like before Timmy, and they had only been officially together for five months.

“I love,” Armie drags out, taking the time to wrap one of his legs around Timmy’s, encasing him more. “Your freckles.”

Timmy blushes then, straining his neck to look up at Armie behind him. “You do?” he asks with a shy smile.

Armie nods. “Mhm. I love the way they cover your nose and your cheeks and your shoulders,” he says as he brushes his thumb across the speckled pattern on Timmy’s nose. “I love the way they get darker in the summer.”

And Timmy, being the sweet, humble boy he is, absolutely cannot take this kind of affection. Armie has noticed in the short time they’ve been together that Timmy doesn’t know how to handle compliments. So, he tries to ease the red tint that spreads across his face by breaking the romantic spell that Armie is trying so hard to create.

Timmy licks at the hand that Armie is touching his face with. “Stop, Armie. You’re gonna give me pimples!”

Armie leans his head back with laughter at that, pulling his hand away. “Okay, I know we’ve only been together for...three...months?”

Timmy smacks his chest playfully. “Armie!”

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding,” Armie chuckles, kissing Timmy’s scrunched up nose. “I know we’ve only been together for five months, but I have literally never--and I mean ever--seen a pimple on your face. Not once!”

“Nobody’s perfect,” Timmy points out, playing with the chain that hangs against Armie’s chest. “I have my flaws.”

Armie gasps dramatically, leaning away from the boy in his arms to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?! My boyfriend has flaws?!” He keeps going, even as he hears Timmy giggle. “I didn’t know they came with those! God, I’ve yet to see them myself, but I guess I better return him before I do!”

Timmy scoffs, putting his head down to hide the smile that’s growing across his lips. It’s endearing. “Yeah, good luck getting rid of me, bucko.”

“Well, shit. If you’ve got any flaws I don’t know about, then I might have to,” Armie jokes.

But it doesn’t really seem to register as a joke to Timmy. Something shifts in his face then, a new wave of melancholy covering his features. He looks sad all of a sudden, almost hidden. Perhaps guilty. He bites his lip in thought, trying to turn his face even further away from Armie. 

Armie fears he might’ve taken the joke too far, heart racing against the younger boy’s now tensed form.

“Hey,” Armie asks as he takes Timmy’s chin between his fingers, making him meet his eye. “What’s wrong?”

Timmy looks worrisome and concealed. He breaks eye contact with Armie to instead stare at the older’s lips, afraid to meet his eye. “Nothing,” he’s quick to say.

“Baby,” Armie says as he caresses Timmy’s chin, making the boy meet his eyes once again. “You know I was joking, right? I wouldn’t leave you because you have flaws. Shit, I have a ton of them myself!” Armie kids, trying to lighten the mood.

Timmy simply gives a soft, almost wince-like smile in return. “Yeah, of course I know that.”

Armie smiles sadly back at him. “Okay,” he says, hoping Timmy will say more, but Timmy just turns his head away from Armie again.

Armie can sense what’s going on here. Timmy is closing himself off. He’s backing into a corner that he hasn’t been in in several months. In fact, one that he hasn’t been in since the two of them have been together. When Armie first met Timmy, the boy was shy, reserved, didn’t say much. But once Armie showed him that he wasn’t going to judge him for his weird quirks and that he was actually interested in what he had to say, the boy rambled nonstop. It was sweet. He talked about anything and everything, and comfortably, too. Armie wants him to keep feeling that way. He wants him to joke around, he wants him to be happy, he wants him to enjoy himself.

So, he quickly tries to change the subject, hoping that Timmy hasn’t ventured too far into his shell yet.

“So,” Armie eggs on as he nudges Timmy’s side.

Timmy looks up at him, confused. “So?”

“Are you going to tell me what you love about me?” Armie asks, aware of how dangerously close his question sounds to a confession of love. They have yet to do that, and Armie feels stupid for wording his question that way for a good second. That is until Timmy responds.

“Hmm,” Timmy pretends to think. “I love...the way that you can always somehow distract from the thing that we’re supposed to be doing,” he says with a smirk, pointing at his TV in front of where they’re laying on the couch; a screen that takes up most of the wall of his small Manhattan apartment.

Armie chuckles, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Alright, smartass. Pick a damn movie, then,” he says, tickling Timmy’s sides.

Timmy bites his lip, trying and failing at hiding his own smile. “What genre do you wanna watch?”

Armie sighs happily, resting his chin on top of Timmy’s mop of curls. “I don’t care, babe. You pick.”

Timmy doesn’t seem satisfied with his answer. He tilts his head back slightly to look up at Armie, his eyebrows knitted together. “Are you sure? You don’t have anything in mind?”

Oh, Timmy. Always trying to accommodate others. “Yes, I’m sure. Seriously, Timmy, pick whatever you want,” Armie says, knowing good and well what Timmy’s going to pick.

Timmy hesitates but eventually looks back at the TV with a small, “Okay.”

Unsurprisingly, Timmy selects Deadpool. The boy had been talking about that movie ever since they saw it in theaters on one of their first dates. And now that it’s available for purchase on the OnDemand home page, Armie just knew he was gonna go for it.

“I knew it! I knew you were going to pick this movie!” Armie teases, pinching Timmy’s hips.

“We can watch something else,” Timmy suggests, having trouble hiding his disappointment.

Armie leans down and kisses Timmy’s temple. “No. This is perfect.”

It’s only a few minutes into the movie when Armie feels Timmy reach for his hand, bringing the older’s knuckles to his lips. He rubs his mouth against Armie’s hand for a few seconds. “You know what I love? I love your beautiful blue eyes and how they change with your mood. And I love your long lashes that surround them. I’ve never seen such gorgeous eyes in my life,” Timmy whispers shyly.

Armie grins softly. “You must’ve never looked in a mirror then.”

Timmy kisses Armie’s knuckles, then holds the older’s hand to his chest. To keep it there. To make it stay. “For once, Armie, I think you’re wrong.”

And with that, they watch the movie in comfortable silence for as long as the fucked up world will let them.

\--

About an hour into the movie, Timmy starts uneasily shifting against Armie’s chest. It starts with the boy flipping onto his side, resting his head on Armie’s sternum. Then a few minutes later, he flips to the other side. Then he returns to laying on his back. It seems like he can’t get comfortable, and Armie begins to worry.

“You alright?” Armie asks as he feels Timmy begin to flip on his side yet again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Timmy answers quickly, clearly trying to brush it off.

Armie wraps his arms around the boy again, hoping the stability of his hold will keep the boy still for at least a moment. “It’s just that you’re being really fidgety.”

“Sorry,” Timmy mumbles from underneath him.

Armie is quick to respond. “No, you don’t have to be sorry. I was just making sure you’re not feeling uncomfortable or something.”

Timmy simply shakes his head in response. He turns back to the movie and, though with less jerky movements, continues to move around restlessly against Armie. It’s almost as if he doesn’t know that he’s doing it. He then sighs heavily and squeezes his eyes shut, a grimace on his face. 

Something’s not right.

“Alright, Tim. What’s going on? Are you feeling sick or something?” Armis asks again.

Timmy huffs, seeming annoyed. Armie isn’t sure if it’s at him or something else. “Nothing, I’m fine. I just...I have a bit of a headache,” Timmy admits, burying his face into Armie’s shirt.

Armie runs his hand through Timmy’s hair at that. “Do you wanna lay down? We can take a nap or something. Or I could get you some Tylenol,” Armie suggests, carding his fingers through Timmy’s soft curls.

“Let’s just...finish the movie. I’m sure I’ll feel better by then,” Timmy promises.

And Armie doesn’t fight with that, because he has a small feeling that Timmy might just be losing his patience with the older. He doesn’t want to bother Timmy, but he’s worried. The body is rolling around, complaining of a headache, and becoming seemingly more pale by the minute. He doesn’t want Timmy to feel like he has to appease Armie just because he’s his boyfriend.

But despite his trepidation, Armie turns back to the movie himself. He doesn’t want to start an argument over something as simple as a headache. The pair have yet to have a serious disagreement that resulted in bickering, and Armie would hate for their first to be over something so stupid.

Just a few minutes later, Timmy is persistently rubbing at his forehead, his breathing picking up into what almost sounds like panting. Before Armie works up the courage to just tell Timmy that he needs to lay down, Timmy speaks up.

“You know, can you, umm...can you actually go get my mom?” he mumbles.

And, what? Armie is so confused. He can’t seem to understand why Timmy would need his mom if he was only feeling a little sick. Especially because of a headache.

“Armie?” Timmy asks, unsure if Armie heard him. He cranes his neck up to look at his boyfriend, a pained expression on his face.

“Y-Yeah, of course, babe. Why do you want to see your mom?” Armie asks, so very confused.

Timmy rubs his forehead harder, squeezing his eyes shut again. “I just...I need her,” Timmy says, his speech almost sounding...slurred? Armie can’t understand it.

“Okay,” Armie says softly. “Okay, I’ll go get her. I’ll be right back,” Armie says as he carefully slips from underneath Timmy’s now tense form, wondering what exactly would make him feel like he is in need of his mother.

Timmy only hums back to him, scooting all the way down on the couch so that he can curl into a ball. His breathing continues to be shallow as he lets out the tiniest whimpers. Armie’s heart sinks.

With that, Armie throws his shoes on and leaves Timmy’s apartment in a hurry, taking the flight of stairs up one story to the floor of Nicole’s apartment. He takes the steps two at a time, heart racing with the fear of not knowing what exactly was going on. 

Armie had always wondered why Timmy decided to live in the same apartment building as his parents, but he now guesses it’s for reasons like this. Reasons he’s yet to understand. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with Timmy.

When he gets to Marc and Nicole’s apartment, he raps his knuckles against the door frantically. He doesn’t want to leave Timmy alone by himself for too long.

Within seconds, Nicole is opening the door, her face lighting up at the sight of her son’s boyfriend. “Armie, hi! It’s so good to see you,” she says happily, that maternal comfort naturally radiating off of her.

“Nicole,” Armie says, just now realizing he’s out of breath. “It’s Timmy. I think he’s sick.”

Nicole frowns then at Armie’s distress. “Sick?”

Armie runs his hands through his hair. “H-He started getting all fidgety and restless and then he complained about having a headache and then all of a sudden he just asked me to come and get you--”

“Oh my gosh,” Nicole says, her eyes suddenly growing wide too. “Where is he?” she asks as she puts on her slippers by the door and steps out of the apartment, slamming it shut behind her. “Is he in his apartment?”

“Uh, yeah,” Armie says as he rubs his neck and follows Nicole down the stairs. “What’s going on? Is he gonna be okay?”

“Look, Armie. I think you better go ahead and head home, sweetie,” Nicole says as they’re walking down the hall to Timmy’s door.

Armie scoffs at her, shock painted on his features. He doesn’t understand. Everything is so unclear. What are Timmy and Nicole not telling him? What is there to hide?

“Go home?” Armie asks, almost offended. “No, I’m not leaving him.”

“Honey--”

“Nicole,” Armie begs as they finally reach Timmy’s door, hesitating before stepping inside. “Please. I need to be here.”

A sad look crosses Nicole’s face. She looks worried, somber, almost pitiful as she forces a wobbly smile for Armie. For the first time since Armie had met her, he sees the age in her face. But not wrinkles or loose skin or gray hairs. He sees the tiredness, the bags under her eyes, the worry between her brows. He sees the years this woman has seen and the things she’s been through without really knowing what those things are.

He feels sympathy for her.

“Okay,” Nicole whispers. “Alright.”

They then make their way into the apartment, Timmy immediately coming into view from the curled up position he’s yet to move from on the couch. Nicole instantly makes her way over to her son, falling to her knees once she’s in front of his stiff form. Armie stays at a distance, watching on, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Oh, my sweet boy. How’re you feeling, baby?” Nicole asks as she brushes Timmy’s curls back from his hidden face. 

Timmy reacts slowly, his face still pinched up. But he eventually cracks his eyes open to look at his mom lethargically, a pout pulling its way across his lips. “Mom,” Timmy mumbles in reply. It sounds wobbly and shaken. He seems scared.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m going to help you,” Nicole says, resting her palm against Timmy’s flushed cheek. She finally acknowledges Armie then, looking up to ask, “Would you mind helping him move on his side? Help him get his legs out straight?”

Armie hesitates. He looks at Timmy and almost doesn’t recognize the boy in front of him. He’s used to Timmy being bubbly and charming and the light of his life. And now, as he sits there weak and helpless on the couch, that part of him seems almost like a distant memory.

Armie finally moves after being frozen for a few good seconds, grabbing Timmy’s bent legs and attempting to pull them out, but the boy almost immediately retaliates, whining out at the feeling of being moved. Armie jerks his hands back quickly, dropping Timmy’s legs. 

“Did I hurt him?” Armie asks frantically, feeling nauseous at the thought of causing Timmy any harm.

Nicole doesn’t answer him at first, her attention caught up on trying to shush her son’s cries. “Shhh, it’s okay, Timmy. He’s just trying to move you on your side. It’s safer that way,” Nicole promises close to Timmy’s ear, continuing to run a hand through his curls and tuck the shorter strands behind his ears.

Timmy doesn’t respond, his eyes now wondering and unconscious to the sight that is his own mother right in front of him. It doesn’t feel right

“Nicole?” Armie asks, unsure of what to do.

Nicole looks up at Armie then. “Go ahead, honey. You didn’t hurt him. He’s just confused right now.”

With that, Armie is able to stretch Timmy out across the couch with only little argument from the boy. As he watches Timmy become more and more unaware and distressed, he can’t keep himself from asking, “Nicole, what’s wrong with him?”

Nicole looks down at her boy one more time before looking up at Armie with a pained grimace. “He’s having a seizure.”

Armie feels his heart drop to his stomach in a matter of seconds. A seizure? Like the one that causes people to foam at the mouth and jerk? That kind of seizure? Does this mean Timmy has epilepsy? He can’t wrap his mind around it. He can’t see how his boyfriend, who he thought he knew, could experience something as intense as a seizure. But are seizures even intense? Armie’s never even seen one in real life. He’s only heard about them. He’s not even sure if he's seen one in a movie. He doesn’t know what to expect. He doesn’t know what to think. All he can do is stare at Timmy with a slack jaw, wondering how the world could be so, so cruel.

Do they call an ambulance? How serious is this?

“But…” Armie starts, at a loss for words. What does one say to that?

Just then, Armie gets cut off by a loud gasp and a piercing shriek coming from Timmy. It’s a sound so inhumane, Armie has to question its source for a second. He looks down at his boyfriend to see that the boy is trembling all over, his shakes visible as he continues to cry out sporadically. His eyes start blinking rapidly, random jerks pulling at his arms. He can see that Nicole has started moving herself away from her son.

“It’s alright, Timmy. Just relax. Let it happen,” Nicole whispers, pity covering her face. Timmy, having not been able to speak for several minutes at this point, sobs in reply. No tears leave his eyes, but the noise still escapes him in full, evidence of the sheer anguish in his mind.

It starts after that, beginning with continuous twitching of his eyes, nose, and mouth. His eyes then roll back into his head as he lets out a loud groan, body tensing up pin straight for just a moment before the jerks begin. It starts making its way up the side of his body that is pinned against the couch underneath him, his elbows locking and his wrist bent inwards in a way that Armie has never seen. His other arm soon follows and then before he knows it, Timmy’s entire body is convulsing. His back throws him around, his arms mostly locked in place and trembling, and his legs kick out as if he’s a child throwing a tantrum.

Armie has never seen anything like it. It seems so cruel, so unrelenting, so demonic to make someone go through something like this. He can’t understand what Timmy or anyone with seizures for that matter could have done to deserve this terrible thrashing that racks their body in its entirety.

“Oh my god, Nicole,” Armie whispers, barely hearing himself over Timmy’s brash cries.

Nicole’s eyes don’t leave Timmy as she says, “He’ll be okay, Armie. Just keep an eye on the time for me, will you?”

Armie glances at his watch then, assuming the seizure has only been going on for about thirty seconds, but those seconds feel like an eternity. “Why do we have to watch the time?”

“If it goes over five minutes, we have to call an ambulance,” Nicole responds.

A particularly jarring cry leaves Timmy, bordering on more of a scream, and Armie has to look away as he feels sick to his stomach. When he looks back, he sees Timmy’s neck is now straining against the couch cushion. He’s letting out terrible gurgling sounds, noises that sound like he’s not getting much air, if any.

“Can he breathe?” Armie asks, biting his lip.

Nicole nods. “He’s not getting much air, but he’s breathing.”

Another thirty seconds pass before the convulsions intensify and Timmy throws himself onto his back. The gurgling noises go on to sound almost like choking, and Armie quickly reaches out to Timmy to move him back on his side like Nicole was so insistent on him being in, but then Nicole herself grabs Armie’s wrist before he can even touch Timmy.

“No, sweetheart. Don’t touch him,” she’s quick to say.

“But, he flipped on his back--”

“It’s okay,” she assures, keeping her eye on Timmy’s body, spasms all over and eyes rolling back in his head. “He’ll be okay. I promise.”

Armie stares wide eyed at Timmy as he notices that a dark patch has suddenly started to grow on Timmy’s pants. “Did he…?”

Nicole follows Armie’s eyes to the wet patch and instantly sighs sadly at the realization that Timmy is pissing himself, right there in front of his boyfriend. “Oh, Timmy,” she says, but not with shame or degradation, but more so with sympathy. “He can’t help it, Armie. He’s...his body is under a lot of stress,” Nicole tries to convince him.

Armie doesn’t take much convincing to get it. “It’s okay, Nicole. I understand,” he says, though he doesn’t. He doesn’t think he can ever understand the amount of pressure Timmy’s body is under during one of his seizures. He doesn’t think he can ever understand how mortifying it must be to piss your pants in front of your partner at twenty years old, despite the fact that you can’t help it and your partner doesn’t see you any different. It must still be such a hard pill to swallow.

“How long has it been?” Nicole asks as Timmy begins to whimper.

“About two minutes,” Armie answers, still in shock. He’s never experienced something like this in his life.

Soon after that, Timmy’s convulsions begin to slow, first reducing to untimely spasms of only his arms and legs. He then is only left with twitching in his face until he’s completely stopped movement all together. It’s a bit eerie to watch the boy go from intense, uncontrollable movements to nothing but deep panting and half closed eyes.

“That’s it, Timmy. Come back, baby. You’re okay,” Nicole encourages as she comes closer to her son once again. She must decide that it’s safe to touch him at that point because she reaches out to caress her son’s cheek lovingly. Timmy only groans.

Timmy looks as if he is nowhere near conscious of his surroundings. His eyes remain focused on no point in particular, and he has no reaction to his mother’s attempts at acknowledgement. Is he okay, Armie thinks. Is this normal?

“Nicole,” Armie whispers, scared to speak up. Scared that he’ll scare Timmy. Scared that Timmy will start shaking again. “Is there anything I can do for him?”

Nicole shakes her head, continuing to run her hand through Timmy’s hair. “Just give him a minute.”

Timmy blinks slowly as his mother continues to whisper to him, trying to bring him back. His jaw is slack and he mother doesn’t hesitate to wipe the drool that leaks from his mouth with her bare hand, cleaning her hand off on her shirt. Armie sees nothing but motherly love in her actions, and it almost makes him tear up.

The boy starts groaning soon after that, turning his face into his mother’s stable hand, seeking her comfort. He leans over until he rolls onto his side, and Nicole has to place a hand on his chest to keep him from rolling off the couch.

“There he is. There’s my sweet boy,” Nicole encourages, holding the boy’s chin and trying to get him to look her in the eye. His bright green eyes only wander, looking like they’re half a second away from closing and sending Timmy into a blissful sleep. “Timmy, do you know who I am?”

Timmy barely looks at her, not able to hold eye contact for very long. It’s then that he gets his arms under himself and tries to push himself up, into a sitting position Armie assumes. He doesn’t get very far though because his mother is quick to convince him to lay back down and his weak arms don’t get him more than an inch off the cushion.

“Lay down, sweetheart. Lay down. Just relax for a second,” Nicole comforts.

Armie can only watch, feeling numb as he witnesses his boyfriend lack both physical and mental strength. It’s hard to see because, mentally in the least, Timmy is one of the strongest people Armie knows. It feels so foreign to see him struggle in these ways. He almost feels like he’s been dropped off in the middle of nowhere as he stands in Timmy’s apartment, feeling like he knows nothing about Timmy at all. He’s not sure if he should feel angry or betrayed or understanding. This kind of situation must be hard to bring up to someone you’re dating, but what if Nicole hadn’t been there? Armie would have no clue what to do.

Timmy could’ve been seriously hurt, and the thought bothers Armie to no end.

Nicole remains patient with her son, asking him again, “Do you know who I am?”

Timmy finally meets his mom’s eye then. He stares at her for a long while, taking her in and seemingly trying to remember where he’s seen her before. Then it appears to all hit him at once as big, fat tears gather in his gorgeous eyes and he’s soon mumbling out, “Mom?”

Nicole smiles at him in return, wiping his drool once again with his thumb. “Yes, Timmy. That’s good,” she answers.

Timmy pouts at that, his bottom lip wobbling pitifully as he whimpers, again, “Mom…”

Then the boy bursts into tears. His arms weakly reach out for his mother as Nicole wraps him up in her own arms. Timmy puts his arms around his mother’s neck, his hands slack and immobile, and he buries his face into her shoulder and weeps and weeps. His sobs fill the silent apartment and send a physical pang to Armie’s heart.

His mother hushes him, keeping a hand in his hair and the other rubbing up and down his back as her baby boy cries against her. His tears soak her light blue blouse. “Shhh, it’s okay. Don’t cry, don’t cry.”

Timmy continues to sob against her, trying to speak but the words coming out incoherent and unclear.

Nicole pretends to understand anyway. “I know, baby. But it’s okay.”

“Mom,” Timmy sobs again.

“I’m right here, I promise.”

Armie stands there in the middle of the room, feeling useless. He wants to touch Timmy too, to comfort him, to hold him close, but he realizes that doing that might only frighten his lover, so he keeps his distance. He soon tries to make himself comfortable by getting Timmy a bottle of water from the fridge, thinking that Nicole could probably help him take a few sips.

When he gets back, Timmy is pulling away from his mother, left with harsh hiccups and a bright red nose. He looks like a child, and Armie can’t understand how a capable twenty year old like Timmy can change in the blink of an eye. The seizure took everything from him.

“Thank you,” Nicole says as she takes the water bottle from Armie. Her other hand is held in between both of Timmy’s, the boy gripping his mother as hard as he can muster in his weak state.

“No problem,” Armie says, and that’s it. He doesn’t really know what else to say. He doesn’t know who he should even be talking to. Should he be trying to comfort a terribly confused Timmy or continue speaking to his mom as if he isn’t there? Can Timmy even hold a conversation right now? Does Timmy even know who Armie is?

Nicole helps Timmy take a few sips, her son breathing heavily between swallows and only getting some of the water actually into his mouth. 

Timmy suddenly pushes the water away from him. “Mom...I...I smelt,” he mumbles, motioning towards his nose clumsily with one hand.

Armie furrows his brows, confused, but Nicole reassures Timmy quickly, saying, “That was just an aura, Timmy. It’s not real, okay?”

Timmy doesn’t nod, doesn’t shake his head. He only stares at his mother. Blank, barren.

“I think we better go lay him down and get him some fresh clothes,” Nicole blurts out. She takes both of Timmy’s hands into her own then, leaning back to get leverage to pull the boy into a sitting position on the couch. 

Armie watches as his boyfriend slumps forward, and he’s quick to put a hand on his shoulder to hold him up. “Do you want me to carry him?” Armie asks, desperate to help but unsure how.

Nicole smiles sadly. “He’s kind of messy right now,” she says, obviously referring to Timmy’s pissed in pants. “I don’t want you to have to get anything on you. We can just walk him to the bedroom and hold him up.”

Armie nods, okay with that, though he wouldn’t have protested the other way around. He understands that Timmy can’t control it. But he listens to Nicole’s requests anyway and grabs Timmy’s upper arm, just under his shoulder, ready to lift him to his feet. Before he can’t even remotely lift Timmy off the couch, his lover whines out, pulling his arm away from his boyfriend.

“Stop,” Timmy whines, leaning forward to hide his face in his mother’s shoulder, who remains crouched in front of him. “Mom.”

Nicole lifts Timmy’s head off her shoulder, holding his curly locks in both of her hands. She makes her son look her in the eye. “It’s okay, baby. He’s just trying to help you get to your room.”

Timmy looks up at Armie, clearly not recognizing him. He’s confused and scared. “I don’t…” Timmy slurs, looking back to his mom with an absolutely bewildered look on his face. “Luke?”

Nicole’s face changes then. All the color drains from her face as she smiles sympathetically at her son. She brushes his hair back to calm him, promising, “No, Timmy. It’s not Luke. This is Armie, remember? You remember Armie?”

Armie’s heart shatters. He never thought he’d see the day where Timmy doesn’t know who he is. He definitely wasn’t expecting it to happen less 15 minutes after they had been cuddling on the couch. He feels awkward, almost ashamed as he stands in front of his boyfriend now.

But then Timmy slowly meets Armie’s eye then, and a small wave of recognition washes over his face. He lights up a bit then, and it makes Armie feel slightly better. His mouth hangs open for a few seconds before he whispers, “Armie…”

“Hey, angel,” Armie answers with a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s the first words he’s spoken to Timmy. For the past few minutes he had been talking to Nicole about Timmy as if Timmy were a child or not in the room. It felt wrong. This feels right.

“He’s gonna help me take you to your room to get changed, okay?” Nicole reminds. Timmy looks back to her and slightly nods.

With that, Armie and Nicole help Timmy to his feet, practically holding him up as they shuffle their way into his bedroom. They place him onto the bed before Nicole tells Armie that she’s going to change his clothes and that he should probably step out. Armie agrees, wanting his boyfriend to be able to keep some of his dignity, and pulls away from the boy. Surprisingly, Timmy immediately cries out.

“No!” Timmy begs as he claws at Armie. “Armie…”

Nicole butts in. “Honey, Armie’s gonna go wait for you in the living room. He’s not leaving you,” she promises.

Armie grabs Timmy’s hand then, kissing his knuckles. “I’ll be right out here,” he whispers. Timmy watches him with a pouty lip and wet eyes.

Then Armie steps out, leaving Nicole and Timmy to their own devices. And then he has time to think about what the fuck he just witnessed.

\--

Nicole steps out of Timmy’s room about thirty minutes later, closing the door softly behind her. She makes her way over to Armie with slight reluctance. She sighs as she joins her son’s boyfriend on the couch, offering him a weak smile.

“I don’t…” she begins. “I don’t know how much Timmy told you--”

Armie cuts her off, his frustration and confusion and hurt getting through. “Nothing. He’s told me nothing, Nicole. I mean, what the hell? How am I supposed to move past that?”

Nicole nods. “I understand your frustration. But, Timmy’s acceptance with his condition is...well it’s...it’s complicated.”

Armie rests his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands as he tries not to take his anger out on Nicole. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be fair. “Condition? Like, I don’t even know what his condition is, Nicole. I know nothing.”

He feels Nicole rub his back, and he instantly settles down a bit. She sighs before she says, “He has epilepsy, Armie. It causes him to have continuous seizures. And there’s no cure. It doesn't go away.”

There’s no cure, Armie thinks to himself. It doesn’t go away.

And that information is just...how? How is Armie supposed to accept that? How is he supposed to accept the fact that the boy he cares so deeply for will struggle with something so heinous for the rest of his life? How is Timmy supposed to accept it?

“What if you weren’t here? What was I supposed to do? I need to know how to handle these things,” Armie begs, trying to get some kind of grasp on his situation.

“I think that’s a conversation you and Timmy should have. He needs to explain his disability to you himself like the grown man he is,” Nicole says, her hand still on his back. Stability, an anchor.

Armie sits up, looking over at Nicole who hovers next to him. “Nicole, I...I love him. I love him, I really do. But...this can’t work if he’s not honest with me,” Armie says, realizing that he just confessed his love to Timmy’s mother. “I need him to be honest with me.”

A somber look crosses Nicole’s face then. Her voice is wobbly as she speaks. “Armie what you have to understand is that Timmy isn’t being dishonest with you. He’s just...god, he’s scared. He’s so scared, Armie. Not everyone in his life has...taken so well to his epilepsy. I don’t know if he’s brought this up to you or if I’m speaking out of turn, but...Timmy just got out of a terrible relationship a year ago. His boyfriend, Luke, was...well, he was abusive. And he didn’t accept Timmy’s disability. It was...yeah, it was bad.”

Armie feels his blood go cold with shock, and then quickly change to boiling with anger. It absolutely infuriates him that someone would be so cruel as to hurt his Timmy, especially over something he can’t control. It makes him sick just as much as it makes him livid. “Nicole, I…”

“So he’s cautious in telling people now because...he doesn’t want to go through that again. He was in a really bad place, Armie. But he also doesn’t feel like he’s worth love,” Nicole says sadly, her voice trembling more and more as she tries to hold back her tears. 

“Nicole, I would never, ever treat your son that way. Ever. I love him so much, I don’t even know what to do with myself,” Armie confesses.

Nicole smiles, her eyes flooded with tears. She runs a hand through Armie’s hair and says, “I know, honey. I know you do.”

Armie has trouble biting his tongue, desperate to find out more about this disgusting person that had the nerve to call Timmy his boyfriend. Preferably where he currently lives, just to have a chat of course. Not at all to break the man’s face in every conceivable way, no. Not at all.

“Was it...emotional abuse? Or did he hit Timmy?” Armie asks, gritting his teeth with anger.

Nicole looks down at her lap then. “I think that’s another conversation that you and Timmy should have yourselves.”

Armie nods, agreeing.

“You should go in there and see him,” Nicole says. “He’s a bit more coherent now and he was asking for you before I left the room. He refuses to rest until he speaks to you,” she says with a chuckle, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Armie smiles sadly as he rises from the couch. “Okay.”

“Just,” Nicole starts, grabbing Armie’s hand. “Don’t bring Luke up to him right now okay? Or anything about his epilepsy for that matter. He’s not in a good state of mind for that.”

Armie nods, promising he’ll do anything he can to keep his boyfriend from getting upset. Nicole smiles, saying she knows she can trust him. She raises to her feet as well and gets on her tiptoes to pull Armie into a hug. She tells him to call her if there’s ever a problem and that she’ll be just upstairs. Armie assures her he will, and with that, she leaves the apartment.

Armie creeps over to Timmy’s bedroom door slowly. He’s scared to enter. Will he see Timmy different now? Will this change them?

Eventually, he swallows his pride and quietly opens the door, just in case Timmy had somehow forgotten about Armie coming to see him and had fallen asleep. He looks into the room to see he was dead wrong, seeing Timmy sitting up on his bed, playing with a string on his fresh sweatpants, bundled up in a hoodie to match. He whips his head up when he hears Armie enter, surprise etched on his features.

“Armie,” he says, almost sadly. Almost guiltily.

Armie grins at him. “Timmy.”

He makes his way over to the bed and sits directly in front of Timmy, taking the boys hands into his own. 

“I thought you left,” Timmy mumbles, a slight slur still affecting his speech.

Armie runs his thumb over Timmy’s knuckles. “Why would I leave?”

Timmy opens his mouth a few times and then quickly shuts it, looking like a fish out of water. He then looks down at his lap, gripping Armie’s hand tighter. “Because...because I thought that...I’m sorry,” he says a little wobbly. “I should have told you.”

Though Armie doesn’t want Timmy to feel any kind of shame for what just happened, he nods. “You’re right. You should’ve. That could’ve been really dangerous if your mother wasn’t here.”

Timmy bites his lip as tears gather in his eyes. “It’s jus’ that… My epilepsy always ruins everything. Anything that makes me happy. And I just...I didn’t wan’ it to ruin us,” Timmy confesses, still staring into his lap.

“Baby,” Armie says as he takes Timmy’s chin into his fingers. Timmy sniffles and nuzzles into the touch, only able to glance up at Armie. “Your flaws could never, ever ruin us. This could never make me walk away. I...god, I love you, Tim. I love you so fucking much. And this could never change that.”

Timmy looks up then, his eyes wide with shock. Armie had just confessed something so sacred, so real, so true, and he wouldn’t take it back if the world depended on it. Timmy stutters a bit before finally just leaning forward and kissing Armie deeply. He pulls back and rests his forehead against Armie’s. “Armie...I love you too. More than you can even understand.”

Armie feels warmth spread throughout his entire chest, butterflies in his stomach. He’s never felt so sure about love in his life.

He grabs Timmy’s jaw with both hands, kissing all over his face. Timmy holds onto Armie’s wrists as he does it. They anchor each other to the world. The world against them.

“We’re in this together, Timmy,” Armie whispers against Timmy’s cheek.

Timmy nods, a tear leaking from his eye and soaking Armie’s own face as well. “Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> who would've thought that i was capable of fluff?! ig it didn't really last that long tho haha
> 
> again thank you SO much for you kudos and comments!! your comments especially inspire me to keep writing :)
> 
> let me know if you guys want more or if you're tired of this series lol. btw im still sweettimotea on tumblr if you wanna chat! <3


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